Reality Vs Reality
by C-AND-B
Summary: "It begins with a cup of tea. It's an odd thing to count in your head as the moment everything began to change. You mean what kind of person takes a sip of a familiarly disgusting beverage and begins to have an epiphany?" Jesse's oblivious and Chloe's attentive and Beca's losing her mind comparing the two.


**Reality vs. Reality**

 _A/N - Firstly, sorry for any mistakes. Secondly, Thanks gaymy-raudenfeld (awesome name by the way) for her tumblr post which had me squealing and needing to write this. Also to the adorable reviewers on my last few fics._

* * *

It starts with the little things. Well, things that seem little, but the more they begin to occur the more you realise that maybe they aren't the little things; maybe the small nuances are what really matters in the grand scheme of things. So it begins with the little things that are somehow the biggest things in your life and, yes, that is kinda (completely) insane to comprehend but, then again, this whole situation is driving you slightly demented from the unnerving complexity of it all.

Essentially it begins with facts. Small facts about you that should be easy to pick up on after you've known someone for three years. And yet, somehow, the one person in particular who should know the exact answer is the one who still gets it wrong.

Okay, so it begins with a cup of tea. It's an odd thing to count in your head as the moment everything began to change. You mean, what kind of person takes a sip of a familiarly disgusting beverage and begins to have an epiphany? What _sane_ person stares at said beverage for a few minutes in confusion until their boyfriend breaks the silence to question why they're acting all weird and mysterious?

"What is this?" You ask. The question is completely redundant however, because you know exactly what it is, although you're kind of afraid to ask the actual question that's hanging on the tip of your tongue, because you've been dating for a couple of years now, and yet, Jesse still hasn't seemed to have retained the very clear information you've handed him on multiple occasions as you've spit out this very same drink because you hate it. You legitimately hate it. Not even in the way you hated movies because that hate was changeable, that hate had boundaries to be pushed and maneuvered but there is no way in hell this hate is going to be changing in the near future.

"It's black tea Becs. That thing you always drink not the 'Da Vinci Code' cryptex"

"Right, thanks" You say simply and then he spends so much time grinning like a proud puppy that he doesn't pay attention to the fact that you don't take a single second look at the cup as it cools by your side, untouched and forgotten, while you listen to his story of the overly excited announcer who called them the "Treblamakers" or something else terrible that made him realise how the whole thing had changed so drastically since his first year.

It's really hits you why you care so much about his obliviousness when you walk through the door to the Bella house with a jokingly chanted "Honey I'm hooooome" and are rewarded with Chloe's hand darting out from the doorway and dragging you into the kitchen. It's in the moment that she places a mug in front of you with a kiss to your cheek that you realise maybe the chant wasn't as much of a joke as you had originally intended.

"Hi sweetie and how was your day?" She questions with a wink and the resulting chuckled sighs from beyond the wall let you know that the other girls are listening intently from the other room. You have no idea why they're so interested to hear you moan about your day or why they don't just openly come to listen. What you do know is that they're weirdos so that's probably the reason you've been looking for.

"Long"

"Yeah? How much coffee have you already had?" She asks suspiciously like she's already preparing herself to take the steaming cup of heaven from your hands and ban you for the evening. Your grip tightens under her gaze because she's done it before as you bounce against the walls until the early hours of the morning (you're half ashamed to admit coffee is the exact reason sliding down the stairs on a tray is part of the new Bella traditions).

"None" You moan and you know you sound like a petulant child but you don't care because you've missed coffee and even the smell of it is driving you crazy. Her eyebrows raise to an almost impossible height and you feel like screaming _THANK YOU_ at her because it's no secret that your body runs on coffee - so much so you're fairly sure at this point coffee is running through your veins.

"You're serious?!"

"Jesse got me black tea" You attempt to mutter grumpily but it falls flat when Chloe springs from her seat with a gasp and an undeniably amazing amount of commitment to her act as she grasps at the edge of the table for stability. It's then that the girls walk in and eye the two of you suspiciously.

"What's happening?" Stacie asks with a cocked eyebrow and a smile that looks like she knows exactly how this situation is about to go down, or she just got laid. Since its Stacie you decide the answer is probably both.

"Black tea what's happening, ma'am" She's gone Southern with the accent this time you note, and you're already laughing because all you can think of is a couple of nights before when she decided to regale you with many a scene from Brokeback Mountain at three am when you refused to sleep before your paper was finished. "Jesse bought are darling Beca here a boiling cup o' shit and asked her to drink it. How dare that boy even think this is acceptable? Ya'll better hold me back or I'm a take that child down to the rodeo and show him a thing or two about how you treat a lady" You're all in hysterics then and Chloe's taking bows while Fat Amy makes a show of throwing sheets of paper like money her way.

"Thanks" You say simply and everything goes silent when she brushes your hair behind your ear with a shrug and retakes her seat at your side.

"It's just coffee"

"Yeah but... thanks"

"Not a problem." You smile serenely but it morphs into something more fearful when she extracts the mug from your hands and places it firmly onto the counter. "So, long day, huh? You know what that calls for?" You don't even bother to answer because you know what it means. You also know that you'll definitely be waking up with bruises as the Bella's pile onto you with Amy charging loudly with a "BUNDLE!" as she chases the last remnants of air from your lungs.

* * *

It continues with a bed. Which sounds incredibly suspicious but it isn't. You promise. It's actually become one of the most innocent things in your life at this point.

Your night begins at Jesse's. That is to say that your night begins with an acute awareness that Benji is sleeping about eight meters from you and that there are half a dozen other boys within an incredibly similar distance. You know this because there's a smell that lingers, and a gradual increase in snoring that's beginning to get on your nerves. Also, you're fairly sure you stood on a Cheeto and while you're not usually bothered by mess you can't quite convince yourself that lying in bed with Jesse is worth the effort of ignoring your surroundings.

You used to think lying with Jesse was comforting. Now though, now you feel like the arm around your waist is pulling too tight, and there's too much heat from his body, and you want to escape but there's no way out and you feel oddly like you're suffocating but this is your boyfriend and you shouldn't feel confined so you stay.

It's another half an hour of restless attempts to embrace your situation before you 'accidentally' kick Jesse in the shin so he wakes up and lets you pull free from your prison.

"Did you turn into a donkey in your sleep?"

"Sorry. Just not sleeping well" He opens the covers again and you should get back in but you can't bring yourself to suck it up when you've just tasted the fresh air of escape.

"Come on" He urges.

"I don't wanna keep you up. I'm just gonna go home" He huffs but you're not caving this time so instead you just smile, grab your things, and walk out the door. You step on another Cheeto on the way out but the crunch sounds like freedom and it's totally worth it.

You don't know why you don't make your way into your own room when you get back to the house but, whatever the reason, the moment you throw your bag on the floor you know your feet are carrying you towards Chloe's room. Something in you knows she'll be awake and that she'll open her covers for you to crawl into her arms but you still feel better when you're pressed snugly into her front inhaling sweat free air.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Jesse's?"

"Couldn't sleep"

"Did he finally give you coffee?" You laugh at her half yawned question until you find your own eyes drooping. Somehow Chloe never fails to help you sleep and somehow you'd never paid much attention to that fact until you allow yourself to think back to ten minutes prior and you realize that you're never more comfortable than with her. Your trail of thought doesn't get too far because you're out like a light a second later. But when you wake up to a cup of coffee and a scribbled note about how you should 'make yourself at home' you smile for the rest of the day despite it being abhorrently bad.

Chloe just has that affect on you, you guess.

* * *

Your next clue presents itself under the cover of darkness once again.

You're in Chloe's bed ( _again_ ) because you've stopped pretending you're not going to end up there eventually and so at least three times a week she tugs you into her room and you let yourself tumble under her sheets with a content sigh.

It's around two am when silence falls into the space between you and you simply lay staring at the ceiling above. Tonight is one of those nights where you actively seek her out because you need to make a decision and you always come to your best conclusions when she's by your side. Jesse asked you to move in with him. Like to a house. A house that's just the two of you. The two of you in a house that will have a lease or some kind of paying arrangements and other commitments and shit. You didn't run from him. No, this time you calmly told him you'd think about it while the you in your mind ran around screaming like your body was on fire. Living with Jesse would be easy. You know it'd be fine and you'd always have food (probably stuff you've been pretending to like but still, you'll be fed) and it'll fun because he's not bad company but you can also think of better - namely the redhead at your side.

"Hey Becs?" Chloe asks as she turns onto her side to look at you with a gaze that you match from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah?"

"What would you do if you woke up one day and you were a chicken nugget?" She asks in all seriousness and the direness in her tone makes you laugh, and laugh, and laugh until you eventually tumble from her bed and onto the floor. Her head pokes over the edge a second later with an endless grin and a still inquisitive look on her face which tells you that, while she had only aimed to make you laugh, she has found herself genuinely curious about your answer.

"Am I still me as a chicken nugget? Like my memories and thoughts and stuff?"

"Yeah"

"Is there any chance I can turn back into a human or must I always be a chicken nugget?" She hums in consideration for a moment.

"There's a small chance but you're not hopeful"

"Am I allowed to ride around in Stacie's cleavage for the rest of my life?" She laughs.

"Is that you're answer?"

"No."

"Why ask then?"

"I was just curious if it was a viable option. Can you eat me?" You're not sure how those are the words your brain decides upon in the next moment but they are. Her smile is somewhat predatory as she stares you down and you feel a shiver run harshly down your spine. "Not like that Beale"

"Sure Mitchell. To answer your question I could totally eat you"

"Well I guess if I'm myself but also my life is threatened by you eating me I would go on the quest to turn myself human again" She nods happily at your answer for a moment before she grabs your arms and all but throws you onto the bed. Except while you're incredibly aware of the force that ripped at your arm, you think she maybe didn't think so much about how much energy she put into the act because you're in between her legs.

You're actually nestled between her legs and you're chest to chest and you can feel every breath she takes and every heartbeat that pounds. And fuck. You can feel her thighs tense around your hips as your body shifts in a failed attempt to find a position that isn't compromising. You apparently have no coordination skills because your next attempt leads to your thigh shifting a little too high and Chloe's face getting indelibly close to your own as her back arches slightly upon contact.

She grips your hips then, halting any further movement. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find yourself hoping she'd done it to give herself the leverage to roll her hips into your own again because watching Chloe begin to squirm is the hottest thing you've ever seen. But you have a boyfriend. You have Jesse and you're both so painfully aware of that fact when her eyes catch yours and both her hold and your self control is wavering on the edge of the abyss.

Your eyes flick to her lips then. Just a second. One glance and your back to her eyes but she's watches the movement meticulously. She watches and repeats and you shiver which is a terrible decision on your bodies behalf because you fall further into her.

This is such a bad idea.

You don't want to be that person. You hate that person.

This is the worst idea ever.

But it's also the only thing you've ever wanted this much in your life and you can feel your resistance wavering when the door flings open and light pours into the room.

"Chlo, I know it's late but what do I get Aubrey for her bir-"It's Stacie and you're back on the floor again. This time you're not laughing and then you're running out of there as fast as possible and hiding under your own sheets in an attempt to suffocate any remaining thoughts about… all that.

* * *

You don't talk about it. Chloe doesn't talk about it. Stacie doesn't talk about it – although she gives you countless looks whenever the two of you are even remotely close to one another that can only be silenced by asking her about Aubrey because apparently that's a thing now. So no one mentions the debacle at all, except now everything feels… loaded.

Exhibit A: getting caught in doorways. It's not a situation that you found yourselves in often and when you did it used to seem more of an inconvenience than anything else because you were running to the kitchen having forgotten to eat (again) and Chloe was often rushing to pee because she never just went when the thought first occurred. But now, now it's become this whole experience.

You're stuck in the midriff between the corridor and the kitchen for the third time this week. You step right. Chloe steps right. Chloe steps left. You step left. And then you both step right again but you've seemingly both decided that this is the one and so you collide in the middle until you're somehow inexplicably pressed in between Chloe and the doorway. Oh, and you're also completely fucked because it's Chloe and everything about her is overwhelming from a distance and right now you can visibly observe her pupils dilate and this isn't good. Not good at all.

"I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose" You mean it to come out as a joke. It definitely does not. The words are coated in an oddly breathless timbre that you don't recall having in your vocal range until, you know - that night.

"I'm starting to wish I had" And then she's closer than your sanity can take and someone is clearing their throat and she's so close her breath lingers like she's already kissing you and someone is clearing their throat and her chest is heaving and someone is… You turn.

"Aubrey and Stacie!" You shout and then cringe because that wasn't acting cool Mitchell. You're glad for the distraction though because Chloe's preoccupied with her best friend coming to visit, and Stacie's preoccupied with trying to feel Aubrey up surreptitiously, and you can easily slip away into your room and hope to god that this all goes away.

Exhibit B: rehearsal. You won't actually allow yourself to go into that one. And by won't, you mean you can't allow yourself because you've only just managed to stop dreaming about it and you will not return to the _nightly moan zone_ as Fat Amy has dubbed it because there's only so many times you can lie (proficiently) about the truth of the sounds origins.

Exhibit C: eating cereal. It begins like all the great love stories - with milk dribbling down your chin as you shovel far too many Lucky Charms in your mouth in one go. One glance at you when she steps into the room and Chloe's telltale chuckle rings fondly in your ears. She uses your moment of distraction to pry the spoon from your fingertips and scoop your cereal into her mouth before she winks at you with a one armed hug and skips from the room to her lecture.

You do little other than roll your eyes and shrug before you lift the spoon towards your lips again so you can bask in the sugary goodness. Although just as you open your mouth a shout stops you from reaching Nirvana.

"Dude, that was in her mouth!" Emily exclaims loudly and what is the big deal? It's just a spoon and it's just Chloe - it's not like you're about to start sharing needles with that oddly smelling hobo down the street or anything.

"It's a girlfriend thing Emily; obviously Beca's already immune to ginger cooties from all the kissing" Emily starts stuttering and blushing then while Amy simply laughs at the mess she's left the freshman in. The thing is - it makes you a mess too. You're finding it extremely hard to ignore the coiling in your stomach because Chloe does kiss you goodnight (on the cheek of course) and makes sure you eat when you're stressing over a particularly hard paper. She also gives you back rubs after grueling practices and makes your sides ache just by doing her ridiculous impressions or by doing a particularly outrageous eyebrow wiggle over a plate of nuggets and you love her.

Fuck.

You love her.

* * *

You break up with Jesse. He smiles and takes it surprisingly well. You suspect that he knows exactly why it's happening because he wishes you good luck as you part and it sounds far too charged for it to be him simply expressing well wishes for you in general life.

Or maybe you're reading into it because you do that now apparently.

You know for sure that you experience an odd sense of déjà vu when you return home to an arm dragging you to an awaiting coffee. You want to kiss the grin on her face. You don't. Not yet, at least (though you're quietly hoping you can soon). You do however rest your head in the crook of her neck and sigh happily against her skin.

"How was your day?"

"Long," you reply and she chuckles lowly like she remembers the moment as though it were yesterday too.

"How'd he take it?" She sounds genuinely curious, as though she cares for the feelings of the boy you've always seen her show a certain distaste for. Maybe that's the thing about Chloe Beale – she cares, and she doesn't stop caring until you feel something in return. She's all encompassing and you're struggling to hide it all any longer.

"Pretty well actually. I suppose the romantic in him understood my reasoning in spite of everything" This is it you suppose. The moment you stop being a chicken shit. You're still a chicken shit though and she's still beautiful as she cocks her head in confusion so that she can catch your wavering gaze.

"What reasoning?" She asks so innocently and maybe it's the hope in her eyes that has the words slipping from your lips like butter – you honestly don't know – but your mouth is open and your words are jumbled but they're happening. You're actually going to do this.

"I love coffee, and chicken nuggets, and waking up in your arms and... you" Silence. You'd walk out if it weren't for your legs feeling eerily like jelly or her hand that comes to rest on your knee.

You can't bring yourself to look at her face until you hear the smile in her next words.

"That escalated quickly," she laughs and you can't help but join in because if only she knew how right she was. If only she knew how fast this had seemingly hit you, because you had three years to realise you were in love with her - three years of ignoring the obvious before it hit you in the face like one of Amy's farts (that is to say - abrupt and a _no prisoners_ kind of vicious).

"My sentiments exactly" Is your attempt to convey what you feel with words but you've never been very good at expressing yourself. You're glad when she leans towards you with an easy smile and a tender hand to your cheek.

You're leaning into her warmth when she replies, "It's cool though 'cause I'm totally in love with you too" and then she kisses you until you can't feel your toes or your fingers or your ears or anything but her, her, her.

You swear to yourself in that moment that you won't let this pass you by again because this is your reality now and it's far exceeding expectations.


End file.
